


Ace Week 2019

by silverskyfullofstars



Category: Captain Marvel (2019), Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ace Week, Ace Week Avengers Party!, Asexual Bruce Banner, Asexual Bucky Barnes, Asexual Carol Danvers, Asexuality, Biromantic Asexual Steve Rogers, Bucky and Matt are drinking buddies, Bucky and Matt talk about how work sucks together, Coming Out, Demisexual Sam Wilson, Gen, Gray-Ace Natasha Romanov, Gray-ace Matt Murdock, Happy Ace Week!, I don't even watch baseball but I referenced the World Series for some reason?, I'm just listing purple foods, Nat and Bucky are friends, Panromantic Bucky Barnes, Red Room (Marvel), Riley and Sam dated, Sam's mom is cool, Steve likes Bucky and Peggy is a supportive friend, Tony being drunk but supportive, it's just fun and fluffy, married Carol and Maria, whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-12-27 09:34:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21116582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverskyfullofstars/pseuds/silverskyfullofstars
Summary: Happy Ace Week! There's a bingo on https://asexualawarenessweek.tumblr.com, but I'm not really following that as much as the themes for the week.One little MCU story including ace representation will be posted for each day.Sunday, October 20th: Coming OutMonday, October 21st: RelationshipsTuesday, October 22nd: Gray-asexuality and demisexualityWednesday, October 23rd: Aces of ColorThursday, October 24th: LGBTQ+ IdentitiesFriday, October 25th: Disabled and Neurodivergent AcesSaturday, October 26th: Community





	1. Coming Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce comes out to Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have always headcanoned Bruce as asexual, and I feel like Tony, a true disaster bi, would be an enthusiastically supportive but at the same time hopelessly ridiculous person to come out to. What a great friendship they have (or romance, you can read this as pre-romance. It's all cool).

Tony comes home drunk at 2 am, stumbling over his own feet and reeking of booze and perfume. His key clicks in the lock of the door to his and Bruce’s apartment, and Bruce idly thinks that there are few graduate students in their particular situation - both near-genius scientists, equal in academic prowess, yet so opposite in their social habits. Tony has a new drink and a new date each day, and Bruce hasn’t kissed anyone since high school. Tony chooses his partners indiscriminately, and Bruce -

Well, Bruce is thinking of how to explain himself.

“Heeeyyy, Brucie!” Tony slurs as he shuts the door.

“Hi, Tony.”

“You - you shoulda come out with me. Shoulda come to the party!”

Tony drags himself to the sofa where Bruce is sitting. He sprawls out over the cushions, and Bruce stiffens when the pillows behind him bounce.

“You know I don’t like that stuff, Tony.”

“But it’s fun! You’re my friend, I want you to have fun…”

Tony’s eyes are misty, and Bruce sighs inwardly. Tony is a maudlin drunk when he’s had this much, but Bruce can’t allow Tony’s endearing affection and worry to distract him from how little Tony seems to care for his own well-being.

Tony, meanwhile, has had a breakthrough that evidently must be shared, because he shakes Bruce’s shoulder a little too hard to get his attention.

“I know! I’ll find you someone to… someone to… a date! Dates are good, and sex is fun, and then you’ll be happy and come to parties with me.”

Bruce decides to bite the bullet.

“Tony, buddy… I don’t like sex.”

Tony looks distraught. “Why not? Did someone ruin it for you? Do you need a hug? Should I sue them for you?”

“No, no, Tony, nothing bad happened. I - I’m asexual.”

Tony seems to give this serious thought, even beneath the haze of alcohol.

“I’m right in assuming you mean the sexuality and not the form of reproduction?”

“Correct.”

“Okay. No sex then. Do you still date?”

“Um, yeah. I’m not aromantic, at least not as far as I know.”

“Okay. Will you come to a party with me and get yourself a date with no sex? Then we can still have fun together!”

Bruce laughs out loud at that. Tony’s reaction had been nothing like the rejection he expected, but in hindsight he could have expected something like this. Tony wasn’t cruel, and he wouldn’t condemn Bruce for something as simple as sexuality. He was just unable to imagine that his idea of a fun night out wasn’t analogous to everyone else’s.

“I don’t know about a date…”

“Please? It’ll be fun, two buddies out on a double date!”

“Tony, regardless of dating, you know it’s the alcohol I don’t like.”

“Oh.”

That dilemma seems to take Tony a second, but he comes up smiling again with a new suggestion.

“If you go to a party with me where there  _ might  _ be alcohol, what if you don’t drink and then we do something fun like bowling instead of a party the weekend after that?”

“That sounds… fair.”

“Great!”

Tony jumps up and promptly falls back over as he trips over the coffee table.

“There’s a party I’m going to on Saturday at this girl’s house, it’s right on the beach and I know you love ocean views, it’ll be awesome!”

He keeps up the excited chatter as he makes his way to his room, and Bruce smiles as he grabs a glass of water and some painkillers for Tony’s nightstand. It wasn’t the coming-out he imagined, but it didn’t have to be. He has a good friend who supports him and looks out for him, and he has a good feeling that everything will turn out fine.


	2. Relationships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria and Carol have a sweet evening together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone in my favorite groupchat said "ace lesbian Carol Danvers" as soon as Captain Marvel came out and I said ABSOLUTELY.

The rain patters softly on the window panes as Carol brings two steaming mugs of apple cider into the living room. Maria is already on the sofa, settling in after putting Monica to bed. She's wearing a soft grey bathrobe over her pajamas, fleece pants patterned with Carol’s signature star.

“Nice pants, honey,” she jokes as she hands over one of the mugs.

“You laugh, but these are the most comfortable pants I’ve ever owned. The rest of my clothes ain’t got nothin’ on these.”

Carol grabs a blanket and sits down, shoulder pressing against Maria’s.

“Too bad they don’t make Maria Rambeau pajama pants. I’d buy those in a heartbeat.”

“It’s a good thing they don’t! I value my privacy, Miss Superhero. Don’t want my face plastered all over half of the nation’s asses.”

They giggle and snort at that, the undignified, comfortable laughter of two women who have known each other for so long that the notion of hiding themselves from each other is completely lost.

“Lucky for you, I don’t really want my wife touching anyone else’s ass, so that’s a no on the pajamas.”

Maria looks at Carol for a second, then bursts out laughing. “Girl, you don’t even want me touching _ your _ass!”

Carol gasps dramatically. “That is _ not _ true! You put your hand on my ass yesterday when we were kissing on the couch! No complaints! Only hands! On asses!”

“Carol, you are the most ridiculous woman I know,” Maria says, planting a kiss right on the tip of Carol’s nose. “I know you’re okay with how I touch you, you’d tell me if you weren’t. And know that if I ever cross one of your boundaries, I will always listen.”

“I love you, you know,” Carol muses.

“I love you too, sweetheart. Always will.”

“No, really. There have been some people who weren’t as understanding…”

Maria scowls, tugging Carol against her so they’re spooning on the couch. “I try not to be too judgemental about your Kree years - I know that even if they were evil, that was home for you for a while. But if a ‘superior’ civilization can’t handle people being firm about others respecting their choices, maybe it ain’t so superior.”

Maria presses another kiss into Carol’s hair, as if to punctuate her statement. Carol hums softly, communicating her acknowledgement and appreciation.

Maria shifts underneath Carol, nesting their knees together.

“Now, on a different but related note, Monica told me she has a friend at school whose older sister just came out as asexual this June.”

“Really? Good for her, we’ll have to bake her a cake or something.”

“I know you’ve been wanting to find some girls to mentor, and since she wants to be an aerospace engineer at NASA, seems to me you got yourself a candidate.”

Carol smiles, a bright grin that rivals the energy of her photon blasts.

“You think she’d like that? Having me as a mentor?”

“Honey, I think any girl would be proud to have you as a mentor. You’ve already been such an inspiration for Monica, and before you start to protest, let me say that _ my wife _ is the bravest, kindest, most beautiful person on this planet, equal only to my own daughter.”

“And you.”

“Hmmm?”

“You too, Maria. You’re just as brave and kind as I am, maybe more. And frankly, I think you’re gorgeous. Loveliest lady I know. I should tell you that more.”

Maria laughs softly. “Okay then, honey. We’ll be two lovely ladies in our lovely house with our lovely daughter, living our lovely life.”

And live it they shall.


	3. Gray-Aces and Demis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and Bucky discuss the Red Room and sexuality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, call-out time. I'm just plain ace as far as I know, not gray-ace as I wrote Natasha to be, so if anyone thinks I'm grossly misrepresenting gray-asexuality, PLEASE TELL ME. It's not my intention to insult or erase any member or identity in this beautiful community, and I will do my best to fix whatever I messed up.

“Do you still dance?” Bucky asks her one day.

They’re sitting on deck chairs on the rooftop terrace of Avengers Tower, sipping fruity mocktails as the sun sets. The rest of the Avengers are downstairs in the ballroom at a charity event - Natasha skipped it, citing a broken ankle as her excuse, and Bucky uninvited himself when he found out they still had to invite the president. Social anxiety was a bitch, and he can’t deal with that and being in the same room as a cheeto with dictator aspirations at the same time.

“Sometimes. Not much. Definitely not with this,” she says, gesturing to her neon pink cast. Bucky thinks it’s more his color than hers, but he suspects that the way it clashes gloriously with her red hair is exactly why she selected it.

Bucky’s straw makes a loud slurping sound as he chases the last dregs of his piña colada around the bottom of his glass before he peaks again.

“Why don’t you do it much? I know you remember how, I was there when you learned.”

Natasha takes a sip of her mojito and twirls the little umbrella around in her fingers.

“The memories, I guess.”

_ Natasha was fifteen when she realized she was different. The other girls at the Red Room were giggling and gossiping in the dormitory at night, a habit even threats could not break. They were silent and obedient during the day, acting the part of perfect little soldiers, but at night they crowded around Olga and Irina’s bunk and aired out the issues of the day. Today’s topic regarded their instructors, namely which of them were most attractive. _

_ “He’s very handsome, no?” Tatiana said, twirling a strand of her blonde hair around her finger. “Older, maybe, but I’d still kiss him.” _

_ “Kiss him? You’d do more than that if you got the chance, Tania,” Olga sniggered. _

More? What more? _ Natasha thought to herself. _ Even kissing someone else is a bore. Why would someone ever want to go further?

_ Aleksandra broke into the conversation with a wide grin. “What about our Yakov? Such pretty blue eyes… I bet he’d have a lovely smile if he ever did anything but scowl.” _

_ Natasha thought that was stupid. Yakov was their best instructor, but Aleksandra would be a fool to pursue him. Yakov wasn’t even his name - he had been given to them with no identity, and one of the ballet instructors for the little girls offered him the name. He took it wordlessly. Natasha knew that Yakov was the name of the instructor’s dead brother, and she knew the moment the woman uttered the name that she was too soft for this life. Less than a year later, Madame B. shot her in the head for getting caught smuggling sweets to the little girls. The bullet was not for the contraband, but for being sloppy enough to allow discovery. _

_ Irina’s voice called her back to the conversation. “What do you think, Natalia?” _

_ “Hmmm?” _

_ “About Yakov. Would you bed him if you could? He’s certainly pretty enough for your high standards.” _

I wouldn’t really like to bed anyone, _ Natasha thought. _ Maybe it’s just not for me.

_ “Of course,” she said. “Who wouldn’t?” _

“Dancing reminds me of the Red Room, and there are some parts of those years that I’d rather forget.”

Bucky hums in response. “Yeah, me too.”

“I don’t know if I ever told you, but the other girls used to talk about you.”

“Mmm, any juicy gossip to share?” he asked around a maraschino cherry.

“Oh, loads of it. Aleksandra had the biggest crush on you and your blue eyes. Tatiana too, probably. I’m sure you featured in many a dream back then.”

“Yuck, Natasha, that’s disgusting.”

“It’s true!”

“I mean it’s a little funny looking back, that apparently the Winter Soldier was somebody’s first crush, but it’s less funny when you realize that the ‘somebody’ in question was an underage child assassin.”

“Yeah, I can see why that’s weird.”

Bucky turned to her with a sly grin, abandoning the slice of pineapple he was using as a target for his cocktail-umbrella “darts.”

“Any… dreams about the Winter Soldier for you, Natalia? No romance-novel fantasies of a tall, strong, dashing young man swooping in to-”

“James Barnes, you stop that!” she laughingly chastised.

“No, tell me, I want to know!”

“Of course not! I thought you were pretty, sure-”

“The highest of compliments, thank you.”

“-But I was and still am not very consistent with that kind of attraction.”

“Oh.”

His response is thoughtful, joking tone gone. When he speaks, his voice is soft.

“Any, uh… name for that inconsistency?”

“Yeah. They call it gray-asexuality.”

“Pretty flag?”

“I think so.”

“Good. You deserve something pretty after all the ugly things you’ve endured.”

The moment is silent and sweet, but Natasha suddenly feels the need to break it. They’re too raw, the both of them, their closeness still an open wound bandaged by humor.

“What about you, pretty boy? Any flags for you?”

“Yeah, actually. Asexuality seems to be something we have in common, and I’ve also got the prettiest flag of them all to add to it.”

“That must be a lie, because you’re definitely not a lesbian.”

“I meant the pansexual flag, you ass!”

“Hmm, close second. That pink color gradient is still prettier though.”

He shoves her jokingly, and she shoves him right back, causing him to snort piña colada up his nose. She cackles at his predicament, and he wheezes through a matching laugh as the sun sinks below the horizon.

  
_ Damn, _ she thinks,  _ I may not have any predictable kind of attraction, but damn am I glad for dependable friends _ .


	4. Aces of Color

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's experience as a demisexual black man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not quite sure how this turned out? I probably need to revise it, but it's almost 10 pm and I want this published today.

If you ask Darlene Wilson, she’ll tell you that Sam Wildon has always been picky with his men. Not that that’s a bad thing - she wants only the best for her son, especially when it comes to the people around him.

If you asked Sam a few years ago, he’d tell you that Captain America raised the bar so high no man can match it, and unless the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan himself asks Sam out, he’s not going on any dates.

That got awkward after the helicarriers.

-

Both Sam and his mother will tell you that Riley was his first love. Met him right out of high school and into the Air Force, so much the same person that you would’ve thought Sam was the one with hazel eyes and hair like a tumbleweed. Sam was out of Harlem and Riley out of the South, but they acted as if they’d known each other since the moment they were born.

It wasn’t until a year into their friendship that it occurred to Sam to see Riley as anything other than a friend. They were on leave, sitting on a bench in a park four blocks from Sam’s childhood home. Riley was writing something down in his notebook, probably some half-formed plot or a line of poetry, and Sam looked over at the afternoon light playing over Riley’s face and thought  _ damn, I could kiss him right now _ .

Six months later, Riley kissed Sam, and two days later Sam called his mother from the military base in Afghanistan to tell her he had a boyfriend. She was overjoyed, and she gushed about her son’s new partner to everyone at church who would listen. The few dirty looks she got were ignored.

Three years later, Riley dropped out of the sky, and Sam’s heart dropped with him. He didn’t look for love again for a while after that.

-

Sam will tell you that the EXO-7 Falcon wings were his second love, but his mother will correct him and try to bring up Steve Rogers. Sam will talk over her.

Sam swears up and down that his attraction to Steve Rogers was purely aesthetic. (Darlene knows this too, but what kind of a mother doesn’t tease her son sometimes?) He’s justified - half the nation is in love with that man. He used to wonder when the attraction would start, when their platonic relationship would develop enough for the possibility of romance or sex, but it never did. 

After finding out about Bucky, Sam figures that was probably for the best.

\- 

Darlene never brings up the people Sam tried to date in between losing Riley and meeting Steve. She knows how her son works, and she knows that blind dates and hookups are out of character for him. She thinks maybe it was the pressure.

Sam hasn’t told her about how a girl he considered a cousin - the daughter of his mother’s best friend - called him messed up when he said he didn’t feel sexual attraction to people right away.

_ That’s some made-up shit for white people _ , she said.  _ You need to get over that boy, it’s messin’ you up _ . He doesn’t think she’d like to know.

It’s been a while since then. He’s over it. He knows himself, and he knows he’s valid even through the low times.

\- 

Darlene will ask Sam about some of the others. Natasha, Sharon, even Bucky. He shakes his head each time. All three are amazing people, and he’s honored to call them friends. But as gorgeous as Natasha’s eyes are, as bright as Sharon’s smile is, as sharp as Bucky’s jawline may be, they just don’t hit that tipping point between types of attraction.

Sam’s okay with it. He knows he’s picky, but he’ll wait for the right person. They’ll be worth it.


	5. LGBTQ+ Identities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Peggy talking about attraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's less coherent and less clear, but the idea is biromantic/asexual Steve.

Steve has never been very good at talking to people he’s interested in.

Not that he’s talked to very many of them. People on the street turn his head all the time, his gaze moving to their eyes or their hair or their lips and staying there until he can drag his eyes away from the art that is the human form. He looks, but he has never worked up the courage to speak to them.

Until now.

Peggy is sitting in front of him, her red lipstick drawing his eye to the movement of her lip along her glass as she takes a sip of her drink. He wonders what it would look like in oil paints, a streak of scarlet red he never would have been able to see before the serum. He wonders exactly what shade it is…

“Steve!”

“What?”

“Sorry,” Peggy says, softer this time. “You were drifting. I asked you if you had anyone to write to at home?”

“Oh,” he answers, “Yeah, I write to Bucky’s ma and sisters every so often. They did a lot to help me get by when my ma passed, and I spent so much time with Bucky growing up that I half lived at their place.”

“No girl?”

“Wha- no, no, no girl. Uh, never was. I never seemed to be any good at talking to them.”

Maybe he’s imagining it, but he catches the ghost of a smile on Peggy’s lips.

“You’re talking to me now and you seem perfectly fine.”

Steve scratches the back of his neck, ducking his head as if to play down his next words.

“I don’t know. Conversation’s only been this easy with Bucky, and now with you, I guess.”

He tries to play off the serious tone of his statement with a joke. 

“Must be somethin’ about brunettes, I guess.”

“Mmm. Something.”

She pauses, taking another sip. “I see why you’re comfortable with James.”

She juts her chin at the back door of the bar, where Bucky is leaning against the doorframe, a girl at his side and a lit cigarette in his hand.

“He’s quite the charmer, with that smile of his. I’m surprised you never managed to snag a girl, though, there’s certainly no shortage of them in his orbit.”

“That’s the problem, they all want him. Plus, even if they are pretty, I’ve never met a girl I’ve wanted to do more than look at.”

“None?” Peggy asks him. “Not one woman you’ve met is worthy of a kiss?”

He almost blurts out the first thought that comes to his head -  _ not one woman except you _ \- but the crinkles around Peggy’s eyes betray the joke and pull him back from the edge of saying something too serious. Steve smiles back at her, and they sit there like that for a moment, holding eye contact with matching grins.

Steve breaks eye contact first.

“You know,” Peggy says, “You sound like a girl I knew at home. Lizzy was a pretty girl, always had boys asking her to lunch, bringing her flowers, all of that. She never turned down their offers, always happy for a lunch date or a rose, but she never left them with more than a kiss on the cheek.”

Steve doesn’t quite know where the story is headed, but he listens anyway.

“I asked her why, once,” Peggy continues. “She told me that as handsome as some men were, they rarely interested her beyond the aesthetic, and only a few wormed their way far enough into her mind to be spared the thought of a more romantic kiss. I asked her -”

Peggy turns a little red, and Steve starts to ask why she’s stopped, but she cuts him off.

“I’m sorry, I’ve just realized this is a bit inappropriate for the setting.” She gets up from her chair, gesturing for him to follow. “Walk with me, won’t you?”

They head outside, walking together down the empty sidewalk. Most of the other soldiers and the girls they’ve picked up are inside the bars and dancehalls lining the street, but Peggy steers them back to the hotel she, Steve, and his men have been put up in. They climb the stairs to the third floor. Steve gives her a questioning look when they stop at the door to her room, but she waves him inside, and he follows dutifully.

“Now, where was I?” she asked him from her seat on the bed, ankles crossed and swinging against the bedframe. He sits in an armchair opposite her.

“Oh yes. I asked Lizzy - well, I asked her if she had ever particularly wanted to take any man to bed, and she rather vehemently assured me she did not. I didn’t want to say anything at the bar, since you never know who’s listening, but has it occurred to you that you may have a similar… way of being?”

Steve sits in silence for a moment, eyes wide.

“I - I guess?” he finally stammers out. “I mean, I’ve never really wanted to have sex with anyone, but I still want to kiss people. Well, not people, mostly just you, and-”

He cuts himself off, not sure why Bucky’s name was about to fall off his tongue as easy as anything. Peggy’s staring at him, a blush high on her cheeks.

“Well. I… I can’t say I’d be averse to that, but it’s probably something for another time.”

She pauses, twirling a finger in the hem of her skirt.

“Who else were you going to say.”

“Peggy, I… I’m not sure I should say.”

“You don’t have to worry about my discretion, Steven. I’m already aware of some very personal information about your personal and medical histories, as well as what you’ve just told me about your attractions. Not only that, but everyone who saw us leave that bar most likely believes us to be engaged in that very act you’ve never felt the need for, so believe me when I say that keeping quiet is in both our best interests right now.”

He believes her.

“Bucky,” he says quietly. “I - I only just realized it, but I’ve only ever wanted to kiss you and Bucky.”

Peggy’s brown eyes are impossibly sad, and Steve finds himself looking for their precise shade as she steps closer. He finds himself standing too, and suddenly they are hugging in the middle of the room.

“Oh, Steven,” she says softly. “I’m so sorry you can’t kiss him. I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you aren’t looking back, and he so clearly wants it too. If it weren’t for the world we live in…”

Steve is still stuck on her words.  _ Bucky likes him? _

“Steve?”

“Yes?”

“I can’t help you with that desire, as much as I wish I could. But I can leave you with this.”

She pulls his face down to hers, giving him a soft kiss on the lips. There’s no tongue, no sloppiness, just a light touch that speaks of sympathy and compassion. They break apart, and he can feel the traces of her lipstick on his lower lip. Her gaze is lowered, lashes dark and fanned out.

“What was that for?” he asks her timidly.

“A kiss between friends or lovers, whichever you’d prefer.”

“Is it okay if it stays between friends?”

“Of course, Steven. I understand, you have every reason to keep it there.”

  
_ Only one real reason _ , Steve realizes.  _ And that reason was leaning against the doorframe, a girl at his side and a lit cigarette in his hand _ .


	6. Disabled and Neurodivergent Aces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Matt meet up at a bar for their monthly drinking session.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was super upset when there was a s*x scene in Daredevil S2 because I'd been so sure Matt was coded ace. Oh well, he is now, and he and Bucky are here and ready to kick ass!

Sometimes, when the world gets to be too much in a particular way, Bucky calls Matt.

Bucky Barnes met Matthew Murdock when the blind lawyer was being harassed by some dumb high schoolers one evening. Bucky, grocery bags in hand, had heard the taunts from down the block and decided to use his reputation as the Winter Soldier for some good. The kids scrambled away when they saw the light flash off his metal forearm, and the man he’d rescued gave him a handshake and an invitation to a nearby bar.

Now, Bucky and Matt have a standing “date” for drinks every month, with extra meetings in between if one of them is feeling particularly shitty. Today, Bucky’s anxiety is kicking his ass, so he shoots a text to Matt.

**Meet at Josie’s?**

**Sure. Meet you there in fifteen.**

Bucky stuffs his wallet, phone, and keys into his pocket and heads out.

Matt is already at the bar when he gets there, a drink sitting in front of him. His cane is leaning on the chair beside him.

“Hey, Barnes,” he says, face pointed unerringly towards the man in question. Despite his blindness, Matt’s gaze is never too far off the mark.

“Hey, Murdock.”

Bucky slings himself onto the barstool on Matt’s left, waving at Josie for a drink.

“Hard day?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Maybe in a minute.”

To fill the silence, Matt starts telling Bucky about a case he closed that afternoon. A woman’s ex-husband, newly divorced and with a restraining order from his former wife, had vandalized her home in retaliation, and she didn’t have the money for a lawyer after paying for repairs. Matt had successfully proved that the man responsible for the damage, and even got him to confess to plans for arson. Bucky didn’t really listen to the details, but Matt’s even cadence lulled him into a calmer state.

“Hey, Murdock?” Bucky interrupts.

“Yeah?” Matt replies?

“I’m ready to talk.”

“Shoot.”

Bucky tells him about everything that went wrong that day, from waking up feeling off to finding out he was out of his favorite cereal to getting stuck in debrief for an upcoming mission with the worst team leader he’d ever met.

“He’s an absolute dick, Murdock, and an idiot to boot. I have to work with him, it’s part of getting in SHIELD’s good graces now that we’re actively working together again, but I may scream if I have to be in a room with him again.”

Matt, to his credit, doesn’t say anything about how Bucky may be overreacting.

“I might be able to deal with his shitty leadership because we all know I’m going to make whatever call is best even if it’s not his, and I can deal with Fury getting mad at me and calling all my excuses bullshit, but this guy had the audacity to corner me after the debrief and ask me to get a drink with him, with a pretty clear undertone of what he expected after.”

“What’d you do?”

“Sam says I gave him one of the best murder stares he’s ever seen. He’s been keeping a tally and a Google Photos folder, he and Nat pick a new one to frame for the common room coffee table every week.”

Matt smiles at this, but his face soon snaps back to ruminating.

“Hey, Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you out to your coworkers?”

“To the Avengers, yeah. They know I’m ace. Why, are you out to yours?”

“Foggy and Karen know I’m gray-ace, yes. But that’s not the point. I know you don’t have any reservations about coming out to people-”

“You bet I don’t! If they hate me for not wanting to fuck anyone they probably already hated me for being the Winter Soldier, so who gives a shit at this point? I’ve spent enough time in closets and cryo chambers.”

Bucky’s outburst leaves him a little breathless with anger, but Matt reaches a calming hand out to his shoulder.

“I know, buddy. What I mean is, do you think coming out to SHIELD will get this guy off your back, or will it put you in an uncomfortable position with other people?”

Bucky has to seriously consider this question, because as vehement as he was a moment ago, does he really want to explain the details of his sexuality to Fury, who will undoubtedly ask for them? Anxiety starts to rise in his throat, but Matt pushes his as-yet-untouched drink in Bucky’s direction, and he gulps it down like it will dissolve the lump in his throat.

“Maybe coming out isn’t the right way to go.”

Matt thinks for another moment, but he quickly comes up with another solution.

“Well, if you can’t come out dramatically, what about your other favorite pastime?”

“Guns?”

Matt laughs aloud. “No, straight-faced trolling. If you can’t get him to stop coming on to you, fuck with him so badly he’d rather shit his pants in front of Fury than talk to you alone. Murder stares, veiled threats, that strut you had as the Winter Soldier that Karen and Foggy have informed me is, and I quote, ‘sex on legs.’”

Bucky’s been able to keep a mostly straight face as Matt comes up with the best plan ever, but the abruptness of Matt’s phrasing and the irony in who it describes hit him right where he’s weak, and Bucky dissolves into giggles right there on the barstool.

“Se- sex on legs? They want me to… oh, shit, they want me to deter this guy by making it clear I’m so out of his league he won’t even try? Matt, that’s the best shit I’ve heard in weeks, let’s do it!”

  
Bucky and Matt leave the bar with matching devilish smiles, filled with excitement for a night at Matt’s apartment listening to bad audio dramas and planning the systematic destruction of Bucky’s admirer.  _ Asexuals may be hard to find, and aces like us may be even more difficult to track down, _ Bucky thinks,  _ but I hope this guy is glad when he finds out he’s getting his ass kicked by a gray-ace blind guy and an asexual amnesiac. Fuck you, Agent. My ace ass 1, SHIELD 0 _ .


	7. Community

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone comes over for an Ace Week party!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this made me wish I could see all my online ace friends in real life...

Saturday dawns bright and clear, sunlight shining through the windows. By 10 am, Bucky is in the kitchen, piping purple icing onto a cake. Tony, Bruce, Carol, Maria, Natasha, Sam, and Matt will be over soon, along with some of their friends, coworkers, and significant others. Steve is out picking up sandwiches from the deli for lunch, and Bucky is left alone with his icing bag and his anticipation.

Soon enough, he hears the  _ click _ of the front door unlocking, and Steve’s heavy footsteps thump down the hall. The grocery bags come into the kitchen first, followed by a head of blond hair and a pair of thick forearms. The bags go down on the kitchen counter, and the rest of Steve pops up from behind them.

“Hey, Buck, how’s the cake going?”

“Good. All the icing colors came out perfectly, and the cake itself tasted fine when I snuck some of the crumbs.”

“Hmmmm. Did you know you’re the best baker I know? Everything you make is perfect.”

_ Everything you do, everything you are, is perfect _ .

It’s been a long road to get here, but it’s worth it. Years of each of them thinking the other was unattainable, similarly attracted to men but hopelessly allosexual. Imagine their surprise last year when they kicked off Ace Week by coming out to each other at the same time, blurting out their truths to an expected antagonist and finding only love and support. Now, they coexist perfectly in sync, fitting together like puzzle pieces comforted by the knowledge that they were never broke, and were in the right puzzle all along.

“What time are they getting here?”

“Natalia texted me when the cake was baking. They’ll be here at eleven.”

“It’s ten-thirty now,” Steve answers. “Should I set the table?”

Bucky nods, and Steve moves past him to the silverware drawer, broad shoulders taking up kitchen space and covered by a violently purple t-shirt. Bucky’s own clothing is a more muted black, spattered with flour where the apron doesn’t cover it and emblazoned with the phrase ‘SPACE ACE’ in bubble letters. He’s excited to see what Natasha will be wearing - she has the best ace merch.

“What’s Tony bringing again?” Steve asked as he put a box of plastic utensils on the table.

“Spiked punch,” Buck replies.

“Purple?”

“Naturally.”

They move around each other easily, setting out napkins and cups and brushing against each other more often than necessary for the sheer joy of being close.

“I ran into Claire at the deli,” Steve says conversationally.

“Matt’s nurse friend? I keep meaning to meet her.”

“I invited her over, but she said she has a shift. She sends her support, though.”

“Good! Maybe I’ll bring her some mini flags for the hospital break room.”

Now that Bucky’s finally retired from the field, citing his annoyance with following stupid orders and just being plain tired, he’s been more active in the local queer community, doing outreach and volunteering wherever he can. Lately, he’s been bringing bundles of mini pride flags for every imaginable orientation to local businesses so they can show their support.

“I think she’d like that,” Steve replies, “You should tell Matt once he gets here.”

As if on cue, the doorbell rings, and Tony’s excited voice can be heard behind the door.

“Hey Barnes, Rogers, open up!” 

Bucky rushes to the door, swinging it open to Tony, Pepper, Rhodey, and Bruce.

“Hey, welcome!” he greets as he ushers them inside. Rhodes carries a huge cooler of punch over to the kitchen counter, and Bruce follows with a few bags of blue corn chips and a container of homemade salsa.

“Blue corn chips?” Steve asks.

Bruce shrugs. “They’re purple- _ ish _ .”

The doorbell rings again, and this time Steve opens it to find Natasha, Clint, Sam, and Sharon. As he ushers them inside, Carol and Maria show up, and they all gather in the living room, trading hugs and handshakes. Sam brings a few tupperwares of his mom’s brisket, and Clint passes over a bag of purple Halloween candy. Maria and Carol present Bucky with a purple sweet potato pie, which he covers liberally with whipped cream.

Matt, Foggy, and Karen are the last of the group to show up. Karen gives Bucky a hug and a plate of sugar cookies decorated with ace, demi, and gray-ace flags. Foggy gives him a bottle of something purple, glittery, and presumably alcoholic. Matt gives him a high five and steals a cookie as Bucky pulls the plastic wrap off the plate.

By the time Bucky finishes fussing with the food to get everything arranged to his standards, all his friends are scattered across the living and dining room. Some of them have taken seats at the long dining table, while others are getting comfortable on the sofa. Someone has turned the TV on to a football game.

“Hey, come eat!” he yells good-naturedly.

They swarm the kitchen counter, and soon brisket sandwiches are being passed around the room. Bucky ends up with half a charcuterie plate, three cookies, a slice of cake, and Steve’s arms around him, chin hooked over Bucky’s shoulder.

“I’m happy, Buck. Real happy.”

“Me too, doll. Me too.”

Tony and Sam jostle each other on the couch, and Carol lunges to catch a fallen piece of brisket. Natasha is sitting in an armchair with the candy bag, swatting Clint’s hands away from it every so often. Somebody, maybe Foggy, asks when the baseball game is going to start. Rhodey starts extolling the virtues of the Washington Nationals, and Maria throws a pillow at him.

Bucky looks over the scene with a smile on his face, surrounded by people who identify with and support him.

“Is this the ace community we always wanted, Stevie?”

Steve thinks for a moment. “Nah,” he says. “This is the family we were always supposed to have.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm finally done! I've been frantically posting all of these at 8pm or 9pm, trying to get them posted on the correct day, but dang, is it worth it. Happy Ace Week, friends. It's been a busy week, but a good one. :)


End file.
